


Left to Drift

by Aemileth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And He Gets One!, Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Emotional Outbursts, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith needs a hug, Men Crying, Season 2 feels, Shiro is a Good Bro, Tears, because stuff, broganes, he's understandably distressed okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22593847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aemileth/pseuds/Aemileth
Summary: "He's okay, right? I mean, I don't really know what you guys did while you were there, and I know that it's a sore subject right now, the whole Galra thing and all, but he's okay, right?" Shiro frowned. He himself was still trying to make sense of everything. So much had changed.Season 2, Shiro finds Keith in need of a friend. No pairings. Oneshot.
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84





	Left to Drift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rookblonkorules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rookblonkorules/gifts).



> I started this fic a very long time ago... in the middle of some night...and it grew and grew, until it became what it is now. Originally it was a simple writing exercise, but I liked it, and thus deemed it worthy of posting.   
> Big thank you to my friends for their wonderful encouragement!!! 
> 
> Season 2, sometime between episodes 8 & 9.

The control room had been surprisingly quiet for the last few days. It was a rather strange phenomenon, considering that, usually, Allura was insistent on keeping the Paladins prepared and ready for action, especially during times like these.

The transports in the control room provided the quickest and easiest way to the Lions’ hangers, so it only made sense to have all Paladins as near to the control room as possible in case of an emergency.

The room itself was usually bursting with noise, ranging from the clicks and beeps of the ship’s systems to Lance and Keith’s seemingly endless bickering, the rambling and occasional snore from Hunk, and the passionate tapping of Pidge’s fingers on the keys of her laptop as she snapped out some insult or comeback most often directed towards Lance. 

All the while, the princess, Coran, and Shiro discussed the plans for the next mission, sometimes having to shout for their voices to be heard over the commotion. 

Today was something different entirely, and it didn’t settle well with Shiro. He could practically feel the tension that hung over the room, and he didn’t like it. 

The Princess stood in her usual spot by her controls in the middle of the room, speaking to Coran in a low voice while the adviser stroked his mustache in a thoughtful silence. 

Shiro couldn’t quite overhear the mostly one-sided conversation, but he had a strong feeling that it had something to do with their newest allies, considering the strained whispers and tight frowns. 

No one could doubt that Allura had been extremely stiff in her interactions with Kolivan and Antok. It was clear she didn’t trust the Blade of Marmora, and she didn’t seem to be trying to hide it in any way. 

__ Shiro could understand that. He still hadn’t forgiven the Blade for that ugly first meeting, and the things they had put Keith through were uncalled for, secret society or not. Messing with someone’s mind without their awareness wasn’t something to be taken lightly as far as Shiro was concerned, especially when that someone was a fellow paladin and member of  _ his  _ team. So, yes, he could understand Allura’s concern in that aspect. What he  _ wasn’t  _ okay with was the fact that the Princess was wary of their guests for the main reason of them being  _ galra,  _ first and foremost.  __

Even Keith, who had since taken up a habit of avoiding her from the moment he left the cryo-pod, was clearly being shunned by the Altean princess altogether as if he didn’t and never had existed. 

Shiro had to suppress a sigh as he sent a sad glance towards the part-galra teen sulking in the far corner of the room, arms crossed, eyes cast downward and half-hidden beneath his bangs as if he was actually trying to meld into the wall. 

Keith hadn’t said more than two sentences to anyone since the incident with the Blade of Marmora, preferring instead to slink away to a dark corner, or his room, or the training deck. 

It appeared that was going to be the case for the time being. At least until a solid plan was set for the next mission, providing him and everyone else with a decent enough distraction from… well,  _ everything _ . 

The only reason he was still in the same room as everyone else was because he knew the drill; it was his responsibility as a Paladin to be prepared to take action if and when it was called for.

Shiro made a note to speak to him later on, after everything had calmed down a bit. 

It was probably best to have words with the Princess as well, once she had some time to herself. There was still a lot of information to absorb; the Red Paladin’s origins being first among them. 

Shiro leaned forward to peer over the console to locate the rest of the Paladins. 

Hunk was the closest, caught in a sleepy daze, slumped in his seat and hunched over the metal surface of the computer console with his head resting on his arms, eyes peeking over. 

Nothing was too off about him, from what Shiro could see. Just a bit quieter than usual, as they all were, and occasionally he would shoot a glance over towards Keith’s brooding figure, looking vaguely anxious as his gaze shifted back to the Princess and Coran. 

Shiro wondered if he could hear the conversation. 

Lance was either unaware or ignoring the situation entirely. 

He stood with his back leaning against the wall, one leg crossed and hanging over the other. His head was tilted to one side so he could pet the mouse perched on his shoulder. 

The rest of the mice crowded around his feet, squeaking and chattering for attention and being left unanswered. They watched with wide eyes as the Blue Paladin stretched his long arms forward and opened his mouth with a loud, slightly exaggerated yawn before turning his attention over towards Allura, a frown of pure boredom fixed on his face. 

“So when exactly are we gonna be dismissed?” his voice rang through the dreary atmosphere of the room, cutting whatever Allura had been saying short. 

The Princess herself whirled around to face him, her face stern and brows furrowed in irritation at being interrupted. “What?” she snapped, short and full of venom. 

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like this isn’t fun or anything,” Lance quickly raised his hands in a mock surrender, “but I got stuff to do, places to be, naps to be slept.” A smirk slowly made itself known on his face.

Pidge stopped her typing long enough to snort and cast a scathing look from her position on the stairs. “You know, Lance,  _ some _ of us are actually working,” she growled, her glasses catching the light as she shifted her laptop on her knees to glare over at him.

Lance shrugged, turning his head towards the Green Paladin. “Yeah, well, some of us actually have awesomeness that requires thorough maintenance consisting of rest and relaxation to retain its effectiveness in battle.” His smirk gave way to a wide smile as Pidge stared up at him, blank-faced.

“Really?” she deadpanned. 

“Yep. But seriously, we’re not exactly doing much just standing around here.”

The Green Paladin rolled her eyes and pulled her computer closer towards herself, effectively blocking the Blue Paladin from view. 

Allura glanced between the two of them before letting out a heavy sigh. “We still have many things to do before the meeting tomorrow, but,” she paused as Lance gave her the “puppy” look as Hunk called it, eyes wide and watery and rather unbecoming for a Paladin of Voltron. She let it pass this time. “I suppose a short break wouldn’t do any harm.” 

Lance pumped a fist into the air with a victorious whoop before racing out the door, earning another snort from Pidge, sigh from Allura, and surprised squeak from the mouse still clutching onto his jacket.

Hunk watched him go before straightening up, yawning as he pushed himself up from his seat. “Uh, I guess I’ll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me,” he said before looking over to Pidge. “Pidge, you wanna come?” 

The girl glanced briefly up from the laptop before stuffing her nose back towards the screen. “Uh, not now. I’m sorta busy,” she stated shortly, her fingers gliding over the keys. 

Hunk’s shoulders slumped in clear disappointment. 

Shiro offered a sympathetic shrug before the droopy mechanic left the room, casting it into silence once again. 

Allura and Coran continued their conversation as discreetly as before, this time without the threat of interruption. 

Keith didn’t even look up, let alone move, content to stay in his shadowy corner and be ignored… or shunned, depending on whom. 

Knowing him, Shiro was sure it was only a matter of time before he slipped out to lock himself in the training room. Then it would be up to the Black Paladin to drag him, exhausted and emotionally spent, back to his room and to bed. 

Pidge continued to type away at… whatever she was doing. Most likely something related to her search for her father and brother.

Shiro felt a pang of guilt tug at his mind. 

Pidge had been overworking herself ever since Ulas had given them the prisoner records, searching and hacking her way through every Galra transmission and record they came across, cross-referencing and comparing to the point Shiro was becoming worried she wouldn’t sleep until she had found a lead, which probably wasn’t too far off from being the case.

He wished he could do more for her, anything to help her in some way or at least to put her at ease for awhile. But being the Black Paladin meant he had a multitude of responsibilities besides aiding his fellow paladin’s search for her family. Preventing more families from being torn apart by Zarkon’s reign was one. 

He had no doubt that they would find the missing Holts, eventually, but all he had now to offer Pidge were his encouraging words and hopes--a pat on the back and a “good job, hang in there” mentality. And that wasn’t enough.

He knew that he’d find her in some nook or cranny later on, asleep with her laptop cradled in her lap. Then she’d be up within an hour and back to her search, thoughts swimming in determination to continue and frustration at the unintentional delay. 

Slowly, Shiro dropped his gaze back down to his own control panel and half-heartedly ran a simple system check to keep his mind busy. Inwardly, though, he added Pidge to his long list of mental notes. 

He would have to talk to her… after Keith… and Allura. Somehow he’d make time for them all. It was just another one of his responsibilities.

The day continued on, slowly, uneventful.

And it soon became evident that Lance had no intention of returning as long as Shiro and Allura were distracted and weren’t ordering him back. 

Hunk poked his head in once or twice to check up on everything, but he would slink out again when it became clear that he wasn’t needed.

Shiro finally began feeling the strain of the past two days catching up with him as he distantly listened to Coran and Pidge discuss the possibilities and risks that came with the whole “folding space time” subject. He suppressed a yawn as he propped his head against his flesh hand, hoping he wouldn’t fall asleep. 

Allura had fallen silent some time ago, seemingly listening in on the conversation. But the expression on her face told a different story, especially when her eyes grazed past the figure of the Red Paladin, haunting the corner, still silent.

Eventually Coran left to “help” Hunk prepare dinner, leaving Allura caught in the middle of an awkwardly triangle consisting of the distracted Pidge, a weary Shiro, and the shunned and unmoving Keith. 

Shiro watched her fumble with the collar of her uniform as she glanced around at the Paladins,  _ her  _ Paladins, lips parted as if about to speak.

She never did, but her eyes continued to move, gliding over towards--

“Princess?” Shiro stood up from his seat to get her attention, and _ hopefully _ , distract her away from what was sure to become an uncomfortable scene for all of them.

Her gaze faltered a bit, landed on Shiro, but finally fixed onto Keith anyway. 

Her expression hardened. 

Shiro quickly obstructed her view. “Is everything _ okay _ ?” It wasn’t meant as a threat, but he wouldn’t have completely dismissed the accusation. 

The words fulfilled their purpose as Allura’s eyes were back on him in less than a tick. Her ears twitched with the slightest hint of frustration, but, remarkably, the Princess managed to keep her calm demeanor. Truly, the mark of a talented diplomat. 

“Everything’s fine,” came the reply, dismissive and almost authoritative in its tone. 

Shiro frowned, but didn’t back down.

Neither did Allura. 

The very room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, even Pidge stopped her typing to look up at the two. 

And then in the blink of an eye, the Princess turned on her heel and marched straight out the automated doors. 

“I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me,” she stated briefly, and the doors hissed closed behind her. 

It was a whole thirty seconds before anyone spoke again.

Pidge stared at the shut doors in confusion before slowly opening her mouth to speak. “What’s her problem?” 

Keith visibly slumped at the words.

Shiro let out yet another sigh, allowing his shoulders to relax from the tension. “She’s just tired. We all are,” he turned back towards Pidge, still frowning. “After we eat, I think it’s best that we try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

The Green Paladin huffed in obvious discontent, shoulders stiffening as she closed her laptop and placed it by her side. 

Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s been a  _ long  _ week, Pidge.” He wasn’t in the mood for arguing. And, after all, it  _ had  _ been a long, strenuous week, no one could argue with that. 

That, apparently, didn’t stop Pidge, as the girl looked up at him, the beginnings of a pout forming on her face.

“Rest is a  _ requirement,  _ not just a luxury.” 

_ “ _ Sounds like something Lance would say when he’s trying to imitate you.” 

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _ Pidge _ , please,” he made his voice a little sterner this time. “It’s been a rough week, and we’re going to need everyone awake and alert tomorrow; and that includes you.”

Pidge blinked up at him before finally huffing in defeat.

“Fine.” She sighed, waving him off. “I haven’t slept in days,” she admitted as she wiped the corner of one eye, “but, in my defense, neither has anyone else.  _ I’ve _ just been using this time to get stuff done.”

Shiro allowed an amused smile to possess his lips. 

She sounded so much like her brother. 

“I know, Katie.” 

Pidge smiled back at him as she pulled herself up from the stairs. 

“Ugh, I’m sore.” She stretched her arms over her head, groaning as she turned toward the doors. “I wonder if Hunk actually managed to make something edible in this place.” 

Shiro smirked at the remark. If Coran was involved, one had only to ponder the man’s definition of the word “edible”. But, eh, she could dream. 

Pidge’s glasses reflected the light once again as she reached up to adjust them. 

The room was empty now, save her and Shiro. And the Castle’s systems were just beginning to wind down; the consistent hum and soft beeping would gradually come to a halt once they left. 

The Green Paladin was just about ready to leave for dinner when a look of confusion spread across her face.

“Uh, where’s Keith?”

Shiro faltered at the words, instantly glancing over to the corner now displaying a clear lack of sulky Red Paladin.

When had he slipped out? Neither of them had heard the doors. 

A swarm of new thoughts and worries pushed their way into his mind. Shiro forced them down for the time being. He could always hunt Keith down later. 

“Huh. I guess he’s beating us to dinner,” he joked. Though they both knew that was probably far from the case. “Silent as a ninja.”

Pidge let out a snort. “Sure.” But her tone softened when she met Shiro’s gaze. 

“He’s okay, right? I mean, I don’t really know what you guys did while you were there, and I know that it’s a sore subject right now, the whole Galra thing and all, but he’s okay, right?” 

Shiro frowned.

He himself was still trying to make sense of everything. 

They had come so far from that first day finding the Blue Lion and becoming Voltron Paladins; so much had changed. 

His gaze shifted down to his right arm, the lights from overhead reflecting on its surface. He wasn’t a stranger to change; he could at least relate to Keith in that way. But honestly, he had only the vaguest idea of what the Red Paladin was going through. 

He slowly turned his attention back to Pidge. “I hope so.” 

He really, _ really  _ did.

***

As was expected, Keith wasn’t in the dining hall.

No one brought it up. And it seemed it was overall understood that the Red Paladin needed some time alone to blow off steam or rest, or to do whatever it was he was doing. The same thought went for the princess, who wasn’t present for dinner either.

Their two guests from the Blade of Marmora had respectfully declined the offer to join them, which, despite themselves, everyone was thankful for. The situation was awkward enough as it was.

Shiro didn't fail to notice the slightest droop of disappointment in Hunk’s expression however after he and Pidge had taken their seats. 

The vacant places at the table were hard to ignore. 

The meal was unusually quiet, which was unfortunate considering the fact that Hunk had truly outdone himself in replicating earth cuisine. Every bite would have been delicious if not for the dour mood that hung over the room.

After the meal, Shiro wasted no time, thanking Hunk and Coran once again for the food before he made it clear especially to Lance and Pidge that going to bed was an order not a request.

Despite his previous doubts, there was no argument about it, and the three younger Paladins and the advisor had hardly left the room before Shiro stood alone by the long dining table, silent as the Castle’s various lights dimmed for the night cycle.

Now came the hard part.

Shiro took in a deep breath as he began making his way down one of the castle’s many corridors, his pace quickened as he whisked by the familiar white and grey metal of the castle’s walls.

His head was swimming with thoughts of what to say when he made it to the training deck and the most likely stressed Paladin within.

Sure, it wasn’t unusual for him to find Keith in the training hall during the late hours of the Castle’s night cycle; he had expected this, and deep down, he knew Keith found solace in keeping active, especially when training. 

But Keith had a tendency to overexert himself, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d find Keith just barely holding it together, causing himself more harm than good. 

Training could only distract so much. 

Shiro hoped for both their sakes that this wouldn’t be a repeat of previous times. 

All thoughts were pushed aside when the doors parted, light flooding into the hallway. 

The Black Paladin narrowed his eyes as they adjusted to the bright atmosphere of the room.

At first glance the training deck seemed to be empty.

There was no training sequence activated, despite the fact that the platform was lit and prepared.

Shiro would have missed the lone figure towards the edge of the court if not for the tip of a familiar red jacket just peeking out from behind one of the supporting pillars.

A wave of worry pulsed through his head as he rushed over, afraid that perhaps his fears were confirmed and something had happened with the training systems. 

Keith was slumped against the wall, head tilted back so that he was staring up at the ceiling, or would have been, anyway, if his eyes hadn’t been shut. They were however, his lids red and swollen.

Shiro kept a few feet of distance between them as he came to a stop, looking down at the younger Paladin.

He wasn’t injured from what Shiro could see, but it appeared the stress of the past week had finally caught up with their Red Paladin.

Keith’s fists were clenched by his sides, trembling as the teen struggled to even out his gasping breaths.

He hadn’t even noticed Shiro.

“Keith?” Shiro kept his voice low, but it didn’t seem to matter. Keith’s eyes snapped open anyway, his breathing hitching as he straightened up.

Violet-blue eyes took one shocked glance up at the Black Paladin before they focused on the floor in utter embarrassment. 

“S-Shiro?” The name came out in a half-suppressed sob rather than an actual question, and Keith, swiping a sleeve across the lower half of his face in an attempt to clear away the tears, sweat, and snot clinging to his skin, cringed at the sound. “ _ Dammit _ — _ ” _

In any other situation, Shiro would have smiled as he lowered himself to his knees, his hand coming to rest on Keith’s shoulder. 

“Hey, relax. It’s absolutely fine,” he spoke softly, frowning only when Keith recoiled from his touch and scooted back further against the wall, peeking out from the shade of his bangs in an image that was much too reminiscent of his younger self. 

Shiro gently pulled his hand away, stomach churning. “Are you okay?” 

"I’m fine," Keith snapped, eyes almost glinting from the shadows. He bit his lip, casting his gaze aside. "I just, I need — ” 

Shiro reached out again, and Keith stiffened at the touch but didn't move this time.

His hands dropped to his sides, not bothering to push back the black strands of bangs falling into his face. “I don’t need — ” His face twisted awkwardly as his words trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. 

Shiro gently squeezed his shoulder in a silent encouragement. "I'm here for you, buddy," he whispered, hoping Keith would take it to heart. "If you want to talk about anything, I’ll listen."

"I don't want — you — to see — "

Shiro settled down next to his fellow paladin, leaning back against the wall and looking down. 

Keith refused to make eye contact as he continued. 

" — It's stupid."

"No, it's not."

Keith scowled but it was clear he was too tired to argue. Shiro probably would win anyway. 

"Keith, I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through right now," the older paladin began. "And you couldn't have handled it in a more mature way than you already have. But," he turned to face Keith, "You can’t just hide from it.”

Keith clenched his teeth and lowered his head until his chin was practically crushed against his chest. 

He didn’t answer.

The training room’s bright lighting continued to shine down on them, reflecting on the polished platform of the training deck. It wasn’t peaceful, but Shiro found the quiet hum of the systems soothing, and the sharp brightness kept the threat of him accidentally falling asleep at bay.

It went on like that for awhile.

Keith still didn’t make any attempt to explain himself and Shiro decided it was better not to push.

Keith didn’t broadcast his feelings like Hunk or Lance did. And usually he wouldn’t go off in search of Shiro, as the rest of the paladins would whenever they were feeling down. He wasn’t insulted or anything; it just wasn’t something Keith was used to. And Shiro could respect that.

Keith just needed time to calm down before warming up enough to address the situation. And Shiro would give him that time. Even if it meant just being there to show he cared.

“Keith?” He wasn’t sure how long it had been before he finally spoke up, daring to face the younger Paladin beside him.

The boy hesitated before slowly turning his head and meeting Shiro’s eyes. His breathing had evened out well enough, and Shiro could tell that crying had made the usually prickly paladin a bit more docile than he had been before.

Shiro carefully edged closer as if approaching a timid animal ready to bolt at any second. “Want to talk about it?” he whispered.

Keith lowered his gaze to stare at his lap

Shiro wasn’t sure he was going to answer until one wet sniffle gave way to words.

“I just — just everything that,” Keith swallowed back a sob to croak out the rest of the sentence, “happened.”

Shiro nodded in understanding. “Finding out?” he offered.

Keith’s bangs bobbed up and down as he nodded. “Yeah,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he fingered the edge of his jacket. “Just...a lot to...think about...right now.” He leaned back against the wall, his face twisting into a grimace. “...Galra and all.”

Shiro sucked in a breath as memories of glowing eyes and lavender fur filled his mind. His right hand clenched and unclenched its metal fingers.

“I know, buddy,” he sighed, turning and examining the arm in his lap. The sight still brought a sore ache to his heart. 

Beside him, Keith let out a laugh more akin to a hysterical snort. “And I guess — guess that’s why she left, you know?”

Confusion swept over Shiro. “What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrow raising ever so slightly. 

“My m — my — you know. Prob — probably didn’t want to deal with me.” Keith shrugged his shoulders in a way that had Shiro almost cringing. “Or maybe, she couldn’t, I don’t know,” he continued. “At least now I know part of why she left.” 

Shiro frowned. 

_ She? _

“Your—” he decided to guess, “mother? Your—your mom, Keith?”

The Red Paladin let out a shaky breath. “Yeah...”

_ Oh _ . 

Shiro felt like smacking himself. 

Keith hardly ever mentioned his family. Shiro himself knew only the slightest details. It was clearly not a subject Keith was comfortable with. 

This whole business must be bringing up more questions than the Red Paladin had ever imagined. 

“She...um...She’s the one who gave me this.” Shiro watched as Keith pulled the small knife from his belt and turned it over in his lap. The Blade of Marmora’s insignia illuminated the edge of the hilt. “Well, my dad gave it to me, but she gave it to him, I think. I don’t know. It came from her in any case. But I don’t know why she—I don’t—I just don’t know—”

Keith swallowed as Shiro reached over to once again grip his shoulder, silently encouraging him to continue.

“—Dad never talked about her,” he flipped the knife between his hands as he spoke, “Not really anyway. Not even when he gave me the knife. He said she left when I was little; little enough not to remember her. And I don’t think she left anything for us to remember her by, except the knife. No pictures or notes or anything like that. Just the knife and—and me, I guess.

“And I know it was probably because she  _ needed  _ to leave, maybe something was happening, people needed help or something. I used to think about finding her when I was older, when things weren’t great after dad—or that she might come back... But I always sort of knew she was...gone. I don’t know how, but I just know.” 

Tears threatened once again to spill out. Keith furiously swiped them away.

“She’s really gone, Shiro. They both are.” His voice broke over the words, and he clenched his teeth to steady himself before continuing. 

“I know it’s stupid and  _ selfish _ , but—I  _ hate  _ all these secrets! I just want to know who I am.” He looked down at the knife, brows furrowed, and Shiro was sure he saw a flash of anger spike through the expression of the younger teen before dissipating, and the steady, sad acceptance Shiro witnessed far too often in Keith settled into its place. “I—” 

He could see the teen’s mouth working to find the right thing to say, and it actually hurt to watch. Keith had always been too critical of himself, taking too much caution when sharing his thoughts and too  _ good  _ at hiding them, mistaking pain for weakness or  _ selfishness _ .

_ Damn that hologram.  _

“All I have is this damn knife, because—” Keith hesitated again, voice tightening, but he somehow found it in himself to finish the sentence, “Because—I _ wasn’t worth staying around for.”  _

Shiro felt something deep within him twist. 

The teen before him seemed to deflated, as if the words finally spoken had released some sort of tension from within, not by fixing the problem, but by having at least acknowledged it. 

It didn’t sound right.

“Keith—” 

“I’m sorry,” Keith suddenly hissed, his free hand flying up and tangling his fingers in his raven hair. “It’s stupid. I know it wasn’t their fault! I’m sorry! I—I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I can’t think right now!” In one fluid motion he was on his feet, ready to bolt for the door. 

“Keith, wait!” Shiro jumped up, reaching out for the younger boy to stop. 

The conversation  _ wasn’t  _ going to end like this as far as he was concerned. 

Keith didn’t even falter, and Shiro’s right hand gripped the boy’s shoulder before he could start running. 

The Black Paladin cringed at the resulting flinch on Keith’s part, but it couldn’t be helped, not now. He had come to terms with the limb, but he wasn’t about to let this universe take something even more precious from him. 

“ _ Keith,”  _ he whispered, locking gaze with the younger paladin. 

Keith’s shoulders hunched, stiffening as he struggled to regain a mask of indifference. Regret was laced in his furrowed brows, but even as the boy glowered down at the metal hand placed on his shoulder, Shiro could see the unshed tears in his eyes. 

He was hurt, was  _ hurting,  _ and believed himself to be in the wrong for it. 

“Keith,” Shiro started again, sighing softly, “you don’t need to be sorry for feeling how you do. This is a lot to sink in, and it’s going to take time to do that. There’s nothing wrong with feeling hurt by all of this. That—that hologram—” His grip tightened gently. “That wasn’t me. I don’t think you’re selfish, Keith, for wanting to know who you are. You’re galra, you’re human, you’re a paladin, but you’re also a friend. You matter to the team, to Voltron, to  _ me. _ And we’re all here for you, just like we  _ all  _ know you’re here for us too, even Allura; she just needs some time to remember that. But we’re a team, Keith. You’re not alone.”

__ The expression the teen held on his face was difficult to decipher. And for a moment, Shiro feared Keith would turn away again, that he had finally mended the tear in his stoic exterior and was ready to run and clamp this storm of emotions up again behind his eyes, the words having fallen on deaf ears. 

Gosh, what else could he say to him?

Shiro felt his jaw clench, and he screwed his eyes closed as he stifled yet another sigh. What more could he say?  _ Why don’t you understand? _

“Why do you care so much?”

The question caught him off guard. 

There was no venom or snarkiness, just a sad, almost painful unbelieving undertone, and after a brief bought of silence, Shiro found himself answering before he could even register. “Why would you ask that?”

The boy before him didn’t respond, glaring down at the floor instead, and frowning sadly. 

“Keith!” Shiro raised his voice. His hand left Keith’s shoulder and waved around desperately in an attempt to draw out some sort of explanation from the Red Paladin. 

“I—I don’t know,” came the weary, half-muffled reply.

Shiro steadied his tone, willing his breath to keep even. “Keith—” His voice was hardly above a whisper. “You’re my  _ brother _ . I love you.”

Keith snapped up to stare directly at him, his expression hardly differed from before, save the tears that had finally begun to fall. 

“ _ But I’m one of them, Shiro! _ ” he finally gasped, his lip quivering as if the truth of the statement racked through his bones. “One of the enemy!—They—they  _ tortured  _ you! They—they—” His eyes darted to the Black Paladin’s arm and then cast away to the side immediately in shame. “They took— I’m one of—Allura—she’s  _ right,  _ Shiro!—I can’t—I  _ can’t _ —”

Shiro felt himself grasping the shoulders of his fellow paladin, and before either of them knew it, the two paladins were locked in an embrace. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Shiro mumbled into the sweaty tufts of raven hair. “It doesn’t matter where you came from. It doesn’t matter! You already know that, Keith!” Keith sagged against his larger body, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs, and Shiro could only continue to repeat himself.  _ It doesn’t matter. That’s not who you are. It doesn’t matter. _

__ Keith clung to him as if he was the only anchor to reality. And Shiro let him; he’d stand there for hours if he had to.  __

“I’m not going to leave you.” 

***

It was nearly dawn—or at least, the closest to “dawn” you could get in space—when Pidge found the need to raise herself from sleep like the undead from the grave, and stumbled out into the Castle’s, still darkened, long corridor.

Her eyelids sagged above her glazed eyes as she wavered and trampled her way forward towards her destination, in complete submission to the demands of her sandpaper dry tongue. 

_ Water,  _ she felt like croaking, all the while frowning at the uninvited image in her mind of sand dunes and endless sunlight, a particularly gnarled old man trudging along a desert of despair, a godforsaken sea of no water. 

She pushed the thought away, and focused solely on her objective.

It wasn’t long before she had weaseled through the kitchen, rummaging through the storage units like a maniac, and obtained her prize: a hydro-pouch, of which she sat contently sucking dry like the dehydrated leech she was.

It was only when she leapt from her perch that the light assaulted her eyes. And as curiosity had killed the cat but  _ not  _ the Pidge, the Green Paladin left her weariness to the confines of the dinning hall and found herself peeking through the door panels of the training deck and treated to a lovely duet of snores courtesy of their resident Black and Red Paladins. 

She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she grinned as widely. 


End file.
